the sun, the moon, and all things interstellar
by wirbil
Summary: This is the day Dairine finds Roshaun. This is the day Kit realizes what Nita really means to him. This is the night Ronan drunkenly stumbles into Carmela's backyard. This is today. That is tomorrow.


**Disclaimer**: I don't own the Young Wizards series because I'm just not that creative. :)

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**~The Sun, The Moon, And All Things Interstellar~**

**001. Expire**

It's not like she didn't try and look for him every opportunity that she got. As a matter of fact she worked her ass off trying to locate him. She started searching as soon as school was out Friday and searched until Sunday afternoon. Then she went home to promptly begin on the excess amount of homework that seemed to have been compiled by all six of her teachers. (It's like they got together on school nights or something to decide the homework load for Friday.) She'd been following this routine for three weeks. There was no living alien hottie proof for her efforts but there _will_ be. (Oh, there most definitely will.)

Now, here she was on Saturn's ring staring at the oddest sight of her life and feeling like crying and laughing and screaming at the Powers That Be. He was alive (and shirtless) and crunching on the last of his lollipops while lolling around on an elaborately decorated armchair in an (rather small) environmental bubble. He looked like a castaway on a throne. (It was a funny thing to compare this to but it's true.) His hair had been burned so that it barely fell to his shoulders and his clothes had all been singed. Dairine would be damned before she let Roshaun out of her sight _ever_ again.

**002. Omnipotent. **

Ronan was as drunk as a skunk. A very wobbly and terribly unstable skunk that had absolutely no idea what so ever why he was sitting at a little pub at the edge of the countryside with a very large bottle of alcohol at his side as his only companion. He wasn't doing anything dangerous but if the Winged Defender were still in his head he'd disapprove, but to hell with that.

Ronan suddenly thought of Carmela and what _she_ would say if she ever saw him like this. He was surprised to discover in the inner recesses of his mind that he actually _gave_ a damn about what her opinion was.

He surprised himself greatly these days.

He thought about her rather excessively. (A bit like how he was drinking his whiskey.) Sometimes he'd wake up in the middle of the night and see her brown eyes staring back at him but then he'd realize it was just the stars outside his window.

Ronan staggered out of the pub and swaggered and tumbled along the hills and valleys of the countryside. There was a _pop_ and suddenly the Celto-Gothic hottie was (not surprisingly) no longer in Ireland.

**003. Paramount**

Sure, Carmela thought he was just about the hottest thing to walk into her house (and there were _a_ _lot_ of fine things walking into her house these days) but she knew better than to hope that he would ever come around again. He was here strictly on erranty and he sure as hell wasn't coming around just for the heck of it. (She was also pretty sure he wasn't coming around for _anybody_ either.)

That's what made it such a shock when she looked out her window, into her yard, and found a very, very drunk Ronan wobbling his way into her yard with a _pop_ of displaced air. He was so plastered, she was sure that she could of put him up against a wall and he would have stuck there. (98%)

She offered him a chance to stay for the night and of course he just _had_ to pass out right then and there so she dragged his skinny, leather-clad, gothic arse (which was also very good looking) onto the couch in the living room and left him with a large container next to his head because by the looks of it he was going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow morning. She also put out some aspirin and a glass of water.

Maybe wizards had some sort of magical cure, like a spell for hangovers or something. After all, if wizardry can save the universe it should obviously have the power to cure the all might day-after-I-drank-my-ass-off-headaches that every _human_ being got.

**004. Dynasty**

Phoebe and Phoebus looked just like him. All fair hair and green eyes. The twychildren had hair that reflected sunlight and eyes that made the chlorophyll of the leaves in spring look bland. They weren't identical twins but they did look rather alike.

Phoebe was fond of aiming, shooting, and destroying things. But she was also quiet. It's not that she was shy toward anyone (she was very bold) it was just that she didn't like people. She liked animals better, very much like her namesake, though she tolerated her twins company and she loved her mother.

Phoebus was what the common person would call either very out going or a lady's-man, but take your pick. He had a smile that drew people to him and his personality seemed to fill rooms. Like his Aunt Nita, he had precognitive dreams and had a flair for music, much like his namesake. He also had a way with stars and when he had the chance and energy, he would go and talk to the sun, Sol.

The family of three constantly endured rumors and gossip alike from the neighborhood mothers and children. (None of it mattered because the neighbors didn't know how close their words actually did hit home when they called Dairine a witch.)

When the two had come of age, Dairine had promptly told them about their father. Then they'd set off to on their Ordeal not long afterwards. (It had something to do with a mass soda recall and exploding pig guts, but lets not go into _that_ right now.)

The first act the three had done after the Ordeal was completed was to go to the Crossing and onward to Wellakhi to tell their father about how they had saved the universe for the first time.

The mighty king of Wellakhi almost cried with pride that day.

**005. Panorama**

It's not like Kit had never seen Nita before. They had been practically attached at the hip since they met when he was eleven and she was thirteen. Seeing her completely unattached to anyone around her and shining like a star was a moment he never wanted to forget. He wanted to hold this image in his mind forever, like a snapshot. She was a star. She was something so much brighter than a star, and (if he could) he wanted to hold her until the world ended (or entropy took over the universe) and he wasn't exaggerating one bit, not at all.

"Go talk to her." His sister Carmela all but commanded.

"Just because you can go boss around Ronan doesn't mean that you can boss around me." Kit muttered darkly.

"Are you insulting my manhood?" Ronan suddenly popped up behind Kit.

"Yes, I am." Kit said boldly.

"Now, now, don't be taking this out on me. Take it over to _her_ and talk. Janey mack! You'd think you'd two would get it by now! You've got nothing to lose except the time your awasting right now, so what the bloody hell, eh?" Ronan asked, the lilting Irish accent becoming more pronounced as he said the last part of his little speech for emphasis. Kit left the two; with Carmela (probably) whispering dirty things into Ronan's ear.

Those last four words echoed in Kit's head as he stepped toward _her_.

_What the bloody hell…_

**006. Rupture**

Making an utter fool of yourself is never fun. Making a fool of yourself because of your best friend and maybe (just maybe) the girl you're in love with is fine. It's absolutely dandy! As a matter of fact _everyone_ should go around spending nearly nine years of their life as best friends and wizardry partners with someone only to find out that someone is with someone else. Then you should totally go and get in a fistfight with the bastard because you meet him and he says something crude about your best friend. Kit was really surprised that Conner had only received minor injuries.

When he went to the hospital to apologize to Conner, the idiot had good naturedly told him it was no big deal and informed Kit that Kit punched liked a girl. Right then Kit was ready to punch _him_ and see if he _screamed_ like a girl when he was done but Nita had walked in.

She saw him and froze. They hadn't seen each other in a while. Dairine had suddenly stumbled in behind Nita. She'd spun the already head-pounding-complicated situation into an even more complex problem when she blurted out that Kit was in love with Nita. (Not the most romantic way to confess your eternal love but Dairine did get the point across, sorta)

So here he was sitting at Central Park making the pigeons fat. While Nita was sitting at that stupid bastards bedside, planning her wedding to that lucky son of a bitch.

When suddenly Nita (surprise, surprise) plopped down next to him and stole his bag of breadcrumbs and threw a hearty amount to the waiting birds. She started off by apologizing then added almost immediately that Conner had said some _explicit_ things about Kit that no one was allowed to say unless they were she, or Carmela. (Golly gee, I wonder what he said.) Then she asked him if he was really in love with her. He had just smiled and looked away from her toward the pigeons and asked her if she wanted to go and see a jeweler for an engagement ring that _actually_ suited her personal preferences.

**007. Progeny**

Ronan and Carmela had five kids. They had three loud and rowdy boys, and two girls with the same cunning as their mother. Needless to say they were a hassle to raise, but the two enjoyed their kids antics immensely to say the least. Cassandra (the eldest), Maple (the youngest), and Trevor (the second youngest) were the only wizards of the family while Darren and Dillon (twin boys) had an exceptional knack for languages like their mother. Though Darren and Dillon were jealous (duh) of their siblings, they had each other for comfort and it's not like they didn't get to go on adventures either. They each had a ballpoint pen that was exceptionally deadly. (A reminiscence of their mother's hair curler.) Each of the siblings probably had their own run-ins with the Lone Power but they were never alone when facing up to the inventor of death. They had each other to lean on no matter how much they argued and fought over whom got the last tortilla.

Ronan and Carmela were exceptionally proud of their family.

**008. Inter**

The first time Nita saw him, he was a scrawny little thing with a mop of messy black and a (rather cute) Spanish accent. Now he was twenty-one, and after nine years of being partners in wizardry _and_ best friends, the word that she would use to describe him in her current state was, well, _sexy _(or hunkilicious, wait, she wasn't that drunk…yet). He was somewhere around six feet tall, had an accent that made girls swoon, and dark, wavy hair that looked slightly tousled no matter what she did to it. All in all he covered all the bases for tall, dark, and handsome.

Kit was currently propping up a _very_ drunk Nita. (She'd never admit it but she didn't hold alcohol too well.) Kit (being ever the gentleman) had offered to take her home and even took her keys to open her door for her. She'd been leaning heavily on him the whole time as he helped her up the stairs to her apartment so when he tried to push her in and leave she grabbed onto his sleeve and asked him not to go.

She should have declined when Cynthia had suggested going clubbing but she had just finished a huge paper for one of her icky professors and she had felt like celebrating. Lucky for her, Kit had been there at the bar. He hadn't been drinking (because the holy saint Kit Rodriguez does not _drink_) but acting as a designated driver for one of his friends, which he had dropped off before he'd helped her home. It's a Friday, aren't they the days that you get horribly drunk and do stupid things? Like check out your best friend.

Morning found Nita with a painful hangover and her best friend (who was sober, just so you know) in her bed. It had been awkward at first but Nita figured it was worth it. Neither of them probably would have confessed anything if they hadn't been at least a little bit out of their minds last night. It was a lovely basis for a relationship but they both knew that the feelings they had were genuine. (Neither had really wanted to admit it until now though, for fear of ruining their friendship, but there was nothing to fear now.)

**009. Acrophobia**

He didn't fear the darkness of space. How could he? He faced it constantly when he went to help stars that were ill. He had been afraid of it. But he'd stood up to it and told it that he was royalty and that it better bend to his will. That's how he conquered his fear. It eventually became strength; his fearlessness toward the dark that haunted so many childhood dreams throughout the universe.

It surprised him when he found out that she was scared of the dark. Roshaun had always thought that Dairine was fearless. He never thought that something as simple as the dark would scare her.

They had been wizardry partners for a while. She was sixteen when the Seniors finally decided that she could handle an off-planet assignment. It was her first in a while. The two of them were being sent out to Pluto. There were reports about something hiding out there and the two were to monitor the conditions on Pluto for a while. She had been ill prepared and the two had ended up sharing a pup-tent.

If that wasn't awkward enough she had to wear some of his spare clothes. He had become more practical and was learning some Wellakihian self-defense techniques from the palace guards. (He could hold his own in a fight if pushed.) Roshaun had also cut his hair so that it fell to the bottom of his shoulder blades; it was easier to deal with. (Though Dairine secretly mourned for the lost length of his hair.)

It had been their first night camping out on the surface of the so-called former-planet. He had just managed to doze off when he heard Dairine sniffle. He'd immediately turned toward her to ask what was wrong. She didn't cry like he'd expected. Her face was stony while the tears seemed to pour out of her eyes on their own accord. Roshaun had moved closer and wiped away her tears, then asked her why she seemed to be emitting rain from her eyes. (His people did not cry. It was simply something you didn't do. It didn't mean that they couldn't, you just don't cry.) In a very Dairine-ish manner she made a witty remark before sniffling that she was scared of the dark.

He had put an awkward arm around her and she had moved her sleeping bag closer to his so that her face was practically up against his collarbone. He heard her mumble something about his abs ("I didn't know that aliens could have nice abs.")

before she fell asleep with a sigh.

Roshaun would never, ever admit this to anyone outside of his head but he rather liked holding Dairine when she was asleep. It was the only time she didn't make comments that would wound his male-ego.

**010. Phantasmagorical**

When girls are practically throwing themselves at you, you tend to have a bigger ego than one would have if they weren't throwing themselves at you. Phoebus was the former, and according to his sister, Phoebe, he had an ego as big as the sun. The sun was big, incase you hadn't noticed.

So when Phoebus first met Lark O'Brian he was having trouble grasping the fact that she could come from a country (Ireland) across the Atlantic Ocean (even though she had used magic) and pop the gargantuan bubble that was his ego on just the first meeting. Lark had been staying at the Nolan household that week. The Nolans had been family friends with the O'Brians and Lark had always wanted to meet some foreign wizards.

Phoebe, Lark, and Cassandra became fast friends because all three of them were animal fanatics. Though Lark specialized in elemental wind magic she loved birds too. (Oh, the irony.) Cassandra had a cat sentient and was often at The Crossing helping fix whatever the problem that occurred with galactic that week with Yowair.

Their first conversation had gone along the lines of, "You're pretty. You're almost too pretty to be a guy and if you weren't I'd be jealous." That had pleased Phoebus very much until she added, "But you're probably full of yourself." She said this in a kind of world-weary voice.

Phoebus had immediately told her that he was so _not_ full of himself and that she was _very_ full of herself if she thought like that.

She had simply smiled a little and said that because he was being defensive about being self-centered, he probably was.

By the end of their first meeting Phoebus was completely baffled as to why Lark wasn't as warm for his form as every other person of the female persuasion was.

Phoebe said it was because she had a brain.

By the fifth time they had met Phoebus knew that something was wrong with him because every time Lark silently glided by in her clunky black boots his heart seemed to throw itself out a window or off all 102 floors of the Empire State building.

By the time Phoebus had turned eighteen he knew that he was probably in love with her. It was either because he taken some time for soul searching or that under his name in the manual his marital status had been changed from single to taken. (He'd though it would be funny to put it there but now…not so much.)

Isn't young love wonderful? All filled with confusion and insults being flung betwixt two lovers. It's just absolutely heart-warming.

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**A/N: There just aren't enough Young Wizards fanfictions so here's another one! It was a lot of fun putting all these characters into new and awkward situations. Hope you liked it too!**

**R&R please! Pretty, pretty, pretty please?! Click the green and semi-transparent button! :D  
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